


Mating Season

by PlayingChello



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bloody Sex, Breathplay, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, first mating season, for nero at least, it's just lots of porn ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4982842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/pseuds/PlayingChello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nero doesn't know what it is, but he is <i>horny</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mating Season

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Harley who suggested I write this.

It hit Nero like a fucking steam train.

One day, he’s just sitting around, minding his own, when he suddenly has this _urge_. He furrows his brow, squirms a bit, and tries to sit quietly. But the squirming provided friction he didn’t ask for and now he’s got another problem.

And Dante isn’t even _here_.

But what is that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? Well, that’s not exactly what happens. No, much worse.

Trish walks in.

“Hey, Nero, we go-” She stops short and stares at him with wide eyes and flared nostrils. “Nero,” she starts through clenched teeth, “Please kindly get the fuck away from me. Go to your room, take care of yourself, wait for Dante to come back, I don’t care. Just do it away from me.”

Nero looks back in shock. He has _never_ seen Trish like this. She’s never sent him away. She’s like his mom, better than his actual mom by scores. But this… It hurts a bit. “Wha-?”

Trish gives him a whithering look, somewhat apologetic but mostly stern and menacing. So Nero tucks his pride and hurries up to the room he shares with Dante. He just hopes he comes back soon.

He doesn’t.

Nero spends hours agonising over a near painful hardon. He can’t bring himself to ‘take care of himself’ as Trish suggested. He’s too embarrassed and doesn’t want Dante walking in on that or Trish hearing it or any of that. So he spends hours trying desperately to will it away. Laying in various positions, staring at it, or ignoring it. Nothing works and he spends the time in unbearable sexual frustration.

When the door finally opens, Nero surprises himself with how quickly he’s all over Dante.

“Hey there, kiddo. Missed you, too,” he laughs, giving Nero’s forehead a kiss.

“ _Dante_.” His voice surprises him. It’s so needy, so desperate. More so than he’s ever been before.

Dante smirks but in a flash his expression changes. It goes still and it looks very much like what Trish had looked like when she had happened upon him. Then, slowly, his smirk returns, but this time it’s devious. “Oh, look what we have here.”

Nero snarls, even as his hips roll into Dante, betraying him, “Shut up, what the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t stop it!”

The smirk widens and Nero’s frown deepens. Dante runs his hands down Nero’s arms, reveling in the dichotomy between human and demon skin, finally stopping when his hands twine with Nero’s. “It’s about time we came across this. You smell _divine_ , baby boy.”

Nero practically melts. He squeezes at Dante’s hands and leans into the bigger man, inhaling his neck for himself. He doesn’t smell any different. Just like Dante. And he didn’t do anything special today, so he can’t imagine what it is Dante is smelling.

He’s vaguely surprised when he finds himself pinned to the bed by his hands with Dante’s form looming over him. Vaguely surprised and excruciatingly hard. He whines, pleading and desperate. And Dante just. Sits there. Not touching, not _doing_ anything.

“God, you don’t know how difficult it is not to just take you right now.”

“What’s stopping you? Get on with it, old man.”

Dante smirks again, “Oh, I’m going to take this real slow because I know exactly how much torture this is for you.” To emphasise this, he lets his hips fall just enough to brush just barely against Nero. The sound Nero makes is wretched.

“Dante, please, just fuck me. Please please please.”

More smirking, “Begging already? That was fast.”

Nero tries to reach up and bite Dante’s shoulder or jaw or anything really, but he can’t get his head far enough off the mattress, so he settles for snarling, immediately followed by piercing whine. So much for being convincingly angry.

Dante leans down and puts his mouth right next to Nero’s ear, “Don’t worry, baby boy. I’ll take _real_ good care of you.”

A shiver runs down Nero’s spine as he breathes hard and tries to buck up into Dante, but meets only air. They’re still _dressed_. He hasn’t even taken his shirt off yet. He feels his eyes pick with heat and then moisture from his overwhelming _need_.

And, of course, Dante’s tongue pokes out to lick up the tears, “You’re so cute like this. So needy and desperate.” Finally, there’s pressure, but not where he wants it. Dante sits down on Nero’s thighs and releases his wrists in favour of unzipping his vest. Nero takes the opportunity to return the favour, making quick work of Dante’s shirt and pushing it away then running his hands over the man.

The moment Nero’s top half is bare, Dante catches his wrists again and pins him down, but this time, uses only one hand to do it. “Ah ah, no touching.”

With his free hand, Dante unhooks his belt and pulls it off. With skill only gained through practice, he secures it around Nero’s wrists for now, then swings his leg over so he can stand at the side of the bed. Nero whines desperately, squirming at his bounds and trying to call Dante back to him. But Dante just stands there as he drops his pants.

Nero almost doesn’t register that Dante is just as hard as he himself is. The thought barely makes it through before Dante is yanking down his pants as well, freeing the offending appendage. Not seconds later, Dante is tossing the bedroom bottle of lube onto the bed and climbing back over top of Nero. “You’re so pretty like this, Nero. All spread out and ready for me. So pretty.” His words almost devolve into more of a mantra than actual teasing, but Nero still blushes.

All at once, the mood in the room shifts.

There’s a heavy scent of precome and sex and something feral and Dante’s face changes from teasing to possessive. Nero’s legs are manhandled up onto Dante’s shoulders and the lube is opened in the span of a second. And now it’s Nero’s turn to smirk, “Slow, eh?”

Dante mutters a, “Shaddup,” before going two fingers in to start. Nero keens, cries out, arches his back. The burn is intoxicating and everything he needed. Exactly what he’s been desperate for since the run in with Trish. He bucks his hips into Dante, trying to get more, deeper, anything really. And Dante complies. He’s long since thrown off whatever teasing he had planned in favour of stretching Nero open.

He doesn’t spend much time on it. Pull his fingers away after mere moments, it seems. But Nero is ok with that, it means something much better is coming. He watches intently as Dante slathers lube messily onto himself. When Dante lines himself up, presses the tip of his cock to Nero’s ready and waiting hole, Nero sighs. _Finally_.

But Dante has one more thing to do before he grants Nero exactly what he wants. The belt comes loose from Nero’s wrists and before he can ask, it finds a new place securely wrapped around his neck. He swallows hard and his eyes roll back in ecstasy. It makes it worth all the teasing and the torture. He _loves_ when Dante does this.

And finally, _finally_ , he’s crying out from the hot burn of Dante entering him. It’s exquisite. But he knows this is only the beginning. With the way they’ve started, it’s only going to get more painful, bloodier.

Nero can’t wait.

Dante starts hard and fast and just gets harder and faster. It’s feral and desperate and needy and _intense_. One of Dante’s hands holds the belt taut. Not tight, but enough for Nero to feel some pressure on his neck, just barely there and not nearly enough. His free hand is running over Nero. Sometimes gently, most of the time with nails and claws digging deep into skin. He partially triggers more than once, leaving deep gashes that take longer to heal and that send nice pretty rivulets of blood down Nero’s body and onto the sheets.

Now that Nero’s hands are free, he returns the favour. Mostly, he attacks Dante’s back. Scratching down deep to try and pull him closer, deeper. The air is thick with copper and sweat and sex and it’s the most wonderful scent Nero can imagine.

He has no idea how long this goes on, but it’s perfect and _loud_. Nero starts to ache with the effort and he starts begging for something more. The sheets are more red than anything else and Nero just wants it to last forever, but he desperately wants to come. But he needs something else, something more.

Dante must be a fucking mind reader, because right then is when he tightens the belt.

It goes from barely there pressure to nearly suffocating in a breath and Nero tries to choke out a moan, but can’t get it passed. It’s perfect and exactly what he needs. His mouth flaps uselessly, trying to form the words he needs to tell Dante he’s so close. He’s almost there. The belt tightens just barely more as Dante leans down to bite right under his ear, “Mine.” And he’s gone.

Gone enough that he misses Dante falling over the edge near simultaneously. Gone enough that the room melts into a haze of scent and damp air and the feeling of Dante’s skin against his.

It takes a while for him to come back to, by which time Dante’s pulled out and settled them both against pillows. His arms are wrapped around Nero’s waist securely and his nose tucked into the joining of his neck and shoulder. Nero turns his head slightly to look at him, “Jesus _fuck_. Are you going to tell me what the hell that just was now?”

Dante nuzzles deeper against Nero’s skin, but answers all the same, voice thick, “Mating season. Lots of sex. Probably some fights. Mostly ‘tween Trish and me probably. Great fucking sex, though.”

“Mmm,” Nero mumbles. He takes the answer, not really caring all that much anymore. Dante’s right, it was _great_ fucking sex. And now he has the biggest craving for warm, super sappy and loving cuddles from his big half-demon mate. So he curls up tighter in Dante’s hold and closes his eyes.

_Minutes_ later, Dante shifts and Nero makes a whining noise of complaint. Until he realises why Dante shifted. He glances down his still naked form. “Are you _kidding_ me? We just finished.”

Dante just smiles and kisses him deeply.

“Mating season.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/playingchello).


End file.
